Saying these words, he stared fixedly at the author of “Liaisons Dangereuses.” Not a smile nor a frown ruffled the habitually stern features of Laclos.
Perceiving the silence kept by the Duke of Orleans’ man, he added, “And more, I prefer an address to the adopted societies to a public one.”
Laclos said nothing, but appeared as if listening to something outside the building.
All at once, a large mass of people entered the club. They were what were called the Bucks of the Palais Royal, dragging with them about fifty young women of questionable character.
“Ah, ah!” murmured Danton. “’Tis a planned affair!”
All the newly-arrived mixed with the Jacobins, crying, “The forfeiture—the forfeiture!”
Laclos ascended the tribune.
“You see,” said he, “’tis the people—the people who desire the forfeiture. A petition is necessary, of which I approve.”
All this immense crowd, who probably had the word, cried with one voice, “The petition—the petition!”